


As You Walk On By (Will You Please Keep Going)

by aeveee



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:31:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeveee/pseuds/aeveee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aubrey Posen will not be kicked out of another place for the rest of her life. Not if she can help it. She will rule Barden or throw up trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Walk On By (Will You Please Keep Going)

**Author's Note:**

> Covers the three years prior to the movie. Alice is the name of the previous Bella captain.

Aubrey Posen is eighteen, and she’s decided she won’t give up her last name.

There are bags at the front door –  _it hits her harder than it should, being able to sum up eighteen years in little more than two suitcases and an overstuffed duffel bag_ – and a taxi waiting beyond the gate. Her mother, bless her soul, is hiding in the master bedroom with a box of tissues and a chest full of words she won’t ever hear. Her father is holding the door open impatiently.

“Well.”

“Daddy. Please?” Aubrey tries. That had stopped working since she’d been six and had placed second in her class, but if this isn’t the day to try, Aubrey doesn’t know what day is.

“The taxi won’t stay there forever,” her father says, eyes cold.  “My lawyers will contact you when the name change goes through.”

“Daddy.”

“Get out, Aubrey.”

Because her father had been the one to tell her at the tender age of four,  _If at first you don’t succeed, you are never going to_ , Aubrey knows better than to try again. Instead, she shoulders the duffel bag and grasps a suitcase handle with each hand.

The steps down from her comfortable childhood home –  _she sees it now; a cold austere mansion_ – are steeper than she remembers, but she manages fine. The taxi driver is already stepping out to help her with her bags.

“Where to, miss?”

The front door slams just as Aubrey hands over the first of the suitcases. Aubrey used to flinch at the sound, but now she squares her shoulders and swallows the acid in her throat.

“Barden University, please.”

The taxi driver gives her a look, eyes the silk scarf looped around her neck and her expensive skirt and heels. “Sure thing.”

 _If at first you don’t succeed, pack your bags_ , her father had said.

Aubrey Posen will not be kicked out of another place for the rest of her life. Not if she can help it. She will rule Barden or throw up trying.

—

It becomes uncomfortably evident that Barden University is no place for Aubrey Posen. Or rather, as Aubrey stands tight-fisted in the corner of a party she had blithely barged her way into: Aubrey Posen has no place in Barden University.

A bunch of boys in maroon are ‘making music’ in the centre of the dance floor, a writhing mess of testosterone and shrill crooning on beer-stained hardwood. Aubrey watches as one of them, a tall bulky senior, grabs the stocky buffoon who’s been yelling that his name is Bumper for the last half hour by the head and twists him around. Aubrey winces, feeling for the kid’s neck.

“That looks like fun, doesn’t it?” comes a breathless voice right beside her. Aubrey jerks around to face a girl with uncontrollable red hair and clear, clear blue eyes.

“It looks like he almost broke that guy’s neck,” Aubrey says. The girl leans closer and Aubrey shrinks back, face twisting with disdain. “What are you doing?”

“You smell nice,” the girl announces. She leans even closer then says, “I’m Chloe.”

“Please step away, Chloe,” Aubrey replies. Chloe laughs and bumps her nose against Aubrey’s cheek.

“But you smell nice.”

“ _Please_  step away from me,” Aubrey says again, pushing at Chloe with one hand and trying to manoeuvre her way out of the corner she had put herself in. Chloe stumbles as Aubrey manages to slip out and smack into the back of a girl standing nearby. The sound of a drink cup falling to the ground is stunningly loud in the convenient break of music.

“ _Aca-scuse me?_ ”

The next thing Aubrey knows, she is nose-to-nose with an angry-looking girl with brown hair and a yellow scarf choked around her throat. Aubrey can literally feel the girl’s anger trying to rip through her. She supposes it has something to do with the stain on the front of the other girl’s dress.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Aubrey starts, only to be cut off with a hissed:

“You are absolutely  _not,_ you aca-bitch. You did that on purpose.”

Aubrey cocks her head. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“Do you  _know_  me?” the girl gasps. From the way Aubrey is suddenly surrounded by a circle of girls also wearing silk scarves, Aubrey figures that was not the correct thing to say.

“Look, I didn’t mean to –”

“Hi! My name is Chloe.”

Aubrey’s eyes bug as Chloe materializes beside her, arm pressed against hers. Chloe is unnaturally warm and clearly drunk to be smiling so wide at a ring of glaring girls.

“Not the time, Chloe,” Aubrey hisses, but Chloe doesn’t seem to care.

“You’re the Barden Bellas, aren’t you?” Chloe asks. Aubrey turns to eye Chloe and is rewarded with a sharp jerk as the girl in front of her forcibly twists her back.

“I am the _captain_  of the Barden Bellas, you bimbo, and if you think that you can get away with spilling a drink on my dress – ”

“Actually, we want to audition for the Bellas,” Chloe announces. The hand gripping Aubrey’s shoulder tightens even more, and Aubrey starts to feel bile rise in her throat.

“You want to  _what?_ ”

“Audition,” Chloe says, as though this is a completely normal conversation to be having while standing in the middle of what looks to be a mob of scarily similar-looking girls. Aubrey entertains the fleeting thought that they are all robots, a thought reinforced by the vice-like grip the Bellas captain has on her shoulder.

“You will not audition for the Bellas. You will not come near me or the Bellas or even utter the word Bella for the next four years, or so help me aca-God, I will end you.”

Chloe only smiles beatifically. “We’ll see you at auditions. Right, friend?”

Aubrey stares at Chloe and utters the first thing that comes to her head: “We are not friends.”

And then she does the next most urgent thing, which is to bolt for the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, Chloe follows her and holds her hair back as she empties her stomach of a measly dinner and three cups worth of cheap alcohol.

“I think we’ll be fast friends,” Chloe says amicably as she rubs Aubrey’s back and hands Aubrey a square of toilet paper. Aubrey can only groan.

—

Turns out the Barden Bellas are the most sure-fire way to rise to collegiate fame, Aubrey learns later after an extensive Google search. At least, it is when you go to Barden University. Aubrey is fairly certain that a cappella is not a particularly popular choice of social activity in a place like the Ivy Leagues.

 _A place you could have been if you had just succeeded,_ Aubrey reminds herself, biting her lip to keep the acid down.

“So? Are you we going to match our outfits for the audition?” Chloe asks. Aubrey swallows, once, then again before turning in her chair to catch sight of Chloe rifling through her closet.

“Get out of there.”

“You’re always commanding me to do things,” Chloe says as she closes Aubrey’s closet door. She has a deep navy dress in one hand and a pristine yellow silk scarf in the other. Clearly, she had only stopped looking through Aubrey’s closet because she had found what she’d wanted and not because Aubrey had told her to.

“And you’re always doing things you shouldn’t be doing,” Aubrey counters. “Get your shoes off of my bed.”

Chloe sighs and kicks her shoes off, curling her legs beneath her and holding up the dress for Aubrey to see. “This was the closest thing I could find to the Bellas’ uniform from your closet.”

“We’re not even Bellas,” Aubrey observes, rolling her eyes when Chloe grins a confident, “Yet.”

“Why do you want to be a Bella so badly?” Aubrey asks. Chloe is folding the scarf in her lap into an inch-wide strip, pressing against it with long fingers. Aubrey watches the way Chloe handles the material with care.

“Being a Barden Bella is something to do,” Chloe shrugs.  Then she looks up with bright, clear eyes and says, “and I can be a Barden Bella with you.”

Aubrey is taken aback by the way Chloe looks at her. It’s expectant and comforting and so honest that it almost hurts Aubrey to see it. In her head, she hears:

_If at first you don’t succeed, you’re bringing everyone else down with you._

“We will be Bellas if it’s the last thing we do,” Aubrey declares, and Chloe gives a bubbly laugh of delight.

“That’s the spirit! Now try on this dress.”

“You’re in the room, Chloe.”

“I know,” Chloe shrugs.

“Get out so I can change.”

“We’re both girls. What’s the big deal?”

“I’m not putting the dress on with you here.”

Chloe just smiles and lunges, yanking Aubrey’s sweater over her head despite Aubrey’s shrill scream.

—

“I can only say that it was due to an atrocious shortage of remotely decent looking girls that you are even here, aca-bitches,” Aubrey hears through the veil of fabric over her head. She can imagine the look of utter disgust on Alice’s face. It matches perfectly to the actual visual when her hood is ripped off and Aubrey is faced with Alice and an obscene amount of scented candles.

“If it were up to me,” Alice continues, ignoring the gasps of surprise as other girls have their hoods removed, “we would not have taken any of you unless you had all undergone surgery to become a clone of me. As it is, that is ethically questionable and also potentially scientifically impossible. So here we are.”

Aubrey feels a hand slip into hers and looks to find Chloe beaming beside her.

“We’re Bellas!” Chloe whispers. She is absolutely radiant in the candlelight.

“Aca-bitches!” Alice snaps. She glares at Aubrey and Chloe before switching her lasers-for-eyes to the other two girls standing beside them. “We’re here to say the oath and don the aca-blessed scarves, not to become bosom buddies. We are in it to become the best a cappella group in the history of Barden, are we clear?”

“Aca-crystal,” Aubrey answers. Alice’s glare is positively scorching.

When the yellow silk scarf is tugged around her throat by some junior standing behind her, Aubrey chokes and swears the bile she’s been forcing back is about to make an appearance.

_If at first you don’t succeed –_

“Breathe deep,” Chloe whispers, fingers slipping between Aubrey’s and squeezing. Aubrey looks at Chloe and nods sharply, breathing through her nose.

“Now, Bellas,” Alice says with a smirk of satisfaction. Around her are eleven other model-worthy girls, flickering in the candlelight, “I expect you all to be at practice tomorrow morning at 6. We are the Barden Bellas, and we are going to Nationals even if I have to strangle you to reshape your vocal cords!”

And Lord, if they aren’t crazy, they put their hands together and somehow harmonize by, Aubrey assumes, Alice’s sheer force of will. It’s that moment, with Alice’s triumphant gaze pointedly passing over Aubrey and Chloe’s presence warm at her side that Aubrey knows what she needs to do.

She needs to take over the Barden Bellas and win a National championship. She needs to be the next Alice. And she will do it, so help her aca-God, because she is Aubrey Posen and even her father’s lawyers couldn’t get her to drop her name.

—

They make it to third place at Sectionals that first year. Alice is livid, and Aubrey is right there beside her screaming aca-curses. Chloe stares at her feet, remembering how she had tripped over herself during the switchover to their second song and had ended up toppling two other girls.

“We are a single unit!” Alice is screaming, “A single, mindless unit that follows  _my_  lead and  _my_ direction and we are supposed to be  _aca-perfect!_ ” Alice’s voice is beginning to fray a little. Chloe winces at the screeching.

“We practiced for  _months_! We had at least ten different gigs at frat houses and we didn’t even need a bikini carwash to get the funds for Regionals and  _now we aren’t even going_. Do you understand what that means, Chloe?  _Do you understand?_ ”

“Yes,” Chloe whispers.

“No, you don’t!” Alice roars. All the other girls are shrinking back now, leaving Chloe in a spotlight she had really rather not be in. Behind Alice, Aubrey’s anger is starting to fade, blue eyes slowly coming back to Chloe.

“Hey. That’s unfair.”

Alice whirls around to face Aubrey, hair wild, at the sound of Aubrey’s voice. “And don’t get me started on  _you_ , Aubrey. Somehow, despite hiding you at the very back of the number, you still managed to wow judges with your absolutely  _terrible_  pitch and rhythm. How is that possible, Aubrey? How did I ever think that you two would amount to anything?”

Aubrey wants to throw up. She can feel it in every fibre of her being, the churning of her stomach and the sour taste at the back of her throat. Her gut is tightening and she’s beginning to feel faint, and then Chloe steps forward and snaps:

“We are the best singers you have, Alice, and you know it. Aubrey sounded great. I sounded great, even if I did mess up the choreography. It was a mistake and it probably cost us Sectionals, but it had nothing to do with Aubrey and it won’t ever happen again.” Chloe’s jaw clenches, and then she spits a decisive, “So lay  _off_.”

And just like that, there is dead silence. Alice looks as though she is about to physically explode from the rage she has caught just behind her clenched teeth. Aubrey half expects her eyes to pop out of their sockets, but Chloe is standing staunch in front of her and for some unfathomable reason, Aubrey aches to feel Chloe’s fingers between hers.

“We will win Sectionals next year,” Aubrey finally says after almost two minutes of pure, silent tension. She edges her way around Alice even as Alice swivels to follow her movement with dark eyes. When she reaches Chloe’s side, Aubrey reaches out blindly, stiffening when Chloe’s palm meets her own. Their fingers slip together. “We will win Sectionals because we had the better set and Chloe is right, we have great voices.” Before her courage can flee her, Aubrey quickly adds, “And because of that, you are going to give us solos, Alice. Then we’ll win Nationals too.”

It’s a bold statement, a challenge that would have never made it past Aubrey’s lips before the remnants of her last meal first if it wasn’t for Chloe warm and confident beside her. Alice reels back in shock and the Bellas all wait with bated breath for the ensuing bloodbath.

It never comes.

Aubrey watches as Alice starts to deflate, as her wild air seems to shrink and wisp away. Finally, Alice is just a model-worthy girl with propped up cleavage and a very strong dream to gain collegiate fame in the a cappella world.

“You two sound terrible,” Alice finally says, a frown firmly etched on her face. Aubrey squeezes Chloe’s hand when she feels the defiance course through her friend and Chloe, thankfully, remains silent. “You sound terrible, but the judges seemed to really like your small parts in the set. Since half of the Bellas are graduating next year, solo spots are going to open up. If you manage to sing your way through aca-boot camp, I’ll consider it.”

And that’s the end of that. Alice turns her back on them and as one, all the other girls follow their captain back to the bus, filing in in silence. Aubrey stays behind, stunned even as Chloe pulls her into a hug.

“You did it,” Chloe whispers. Aubrey feels Chloe’s words brush past the curl of hair that had slipped out of her bun and skim across the edge of her ear.

“No,” Aubrey chokes, hands clenching at the back of Chloe’s blazer, “we did it. We’re going to win Sectionals next year. And Regionals.”

“Yeah,” Chloe says simply. She smiles, and Aubrey thinks fleetingly that Chloe is brighter than the streetlights.

Nothing is going to stop them now.

—

Except the next year, they make it to Regionals and are stopped by the Barden Treblemakers. This time, Alice is screaming at the new batch of sophomores and juniors they had taken in and Aubrey is right there beside her, echoing every insult that Alice flings.

It’s not pretty. There are tears and sobbing apologies and outright begging to keep the scarf, but Alice is ruthless and Aubrey watches with hungry eyes as two girls are stripped of their Bella status right there in the parking lot. Alice stands with a ramrod straight back and blazing eyes and to Aubrey, it looks as though she wields absolute control and power.

Aubrey grits her teeth, straightens her back and glares disdainfully at the girls crying in front of her. Voice pitched haughtier than normal, she intones, “My father always said: if at first you don’t succeed, leave so you stop holding everyone else back.”

Alice turns to look at her, surprise and approval warring on her face. “Your father sounds like a smart man.”

_The rejection letters litter the coffee table. Aubrey is crying silent tears, shaking and faint. It comes so quietly she thinks she shouldn’t hear it, but it in fact, is deafening._

_“If at first you don’t succeed, pack your bags.”_

“I try to take after him,” Aubrey says instead of agreeing with Alice outright. Alice sniffs and moves toward the bus.

“Come on. We have a long year to plan for.”

“Of course. We’re going to have to be aca-perfection to win Nationals next year.”

Alice gauges Aubrey with shrewd eyes before biting, “I like the confidence, but don’t get ahead of yourself, Aubrey. You still sounded off-key in your solo and if you want to keep it, fix your voice before boot camp.”

“Yes, Alice.”

Aubrey watches Alice’s back as she steps onto the bus. Behind her, she hears Chloe comforting the girls who have been kicked off of the Bellas. Aubrey’s eyes meet Chloe’s when she chances a glance back and the look of disappointment wrings hot through Aubrey’s chest.

They have to win, though. Aubrey knows that. She has made it into the Bellas, is starting on her way to leadership in the Bellas, and a little distance from Chloe is not going to make her give that up.

Aubrey steps onto the bus and takes the seat next to Alice, pointedly not looking out the window to where Chloe is hugging each girl in turn.

—

They are standing in the wings at the Lincoln Center and Chloe is nowhere to be seen.

“Aubrey. Where the hell is she?” Alice hisses, adjusting and readjusting her bra. Aubrey shakes her head and nervously fixes her hair.

“I don’t know. She was with us a second ago and then she was gone. Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

“This is  _not_  the time for an aca-potty break!” Alice almost-screeches, and Aubrey is quick to agree. They are at  _Nationals_ , damn it, and they are not going to be caught one Bella short. Just as Bumper sings his last note, Aubrey turns to hear the scampering sound of heels on linoleum and finds Chloe skidding to a halt beside her.

“Where have you  _been_?” Aubrey hisses in unison with Alice. Chloe blinks and frantically adjusts her skirt, smiling apologetically.

“Sorry, got caught up in the bathroom.”

Aubrey can see the way Chloe’s hair is mussed and her blazer crinkled. She tugs it straight with strained motions, turning Chloe’s scarf until it sits right on her neck. “Does this hold-up have a name?”

“I meant I had to go pee,” Chloe whispers unconvincingly. Aubrey chooses to ignore it.

“Glad you made it in time,” she says instead, and turns back to watch Alice watching the Treblemakers running the stage in pre-emptive victory.

“Ladies!” Bumper drawls. Aubrey’s skin crawls at the sound of his voice, something that hasn’t changed all these years at Barden. Alice and Bumper exchange sarcastic barbs before he finally leaves, sending an enraged Alice to whirl around on Aubrey and Chloe who are standing right behind her.

“I swear to God, we made it this far and we are  _not_  going to lose to that aca- _creep_ , okay? You two better not mess up your solos or I will make you regret the moment you ever attempted to sing a single note.” Alice’s hands are tightened into scarily white fists and Aubrey eyes them apprehensively before nodding like a bobble head doll. Inside her, she can feel everything churning. A familiar taste of acid surges into her throat.

“Aubrey.”

Chloe is looking at her with wide, blue eyes and Aubrey can only stare, frozen in fear.

“Aubrey, you’re going to be okay. Just… Breathe deep, remember? You were made for this. We’re going to win this year.”

Aubrey still feels like she can’t open her mouth without losing her lunch, so for the first time in almost a year, she grasps for Chloe’s hand. Chloe is quick to offer her touch and their fingers interlock as easily as ever.

“Come on. We’ll be okay,” Chloe whispers, patting Aubrey’s hair down with her free hand. “You can do this.”

And so Aubrey swallows and stands up straight, following Alice onto the stage as their name is called. Alice counts them in, and Chloe starts her solo, and then she gives Aubrey the warmest smile she’s ever given before handing her the microphone, and then –

Aubrey doesn’t even feel it coming until it’s already on her. People are screaming. Her muscles are locked in place and she stands, rigid at the edge of the stage as everything just comes pouring out of her in a rush of disgusting bile and failure.

They’ve lost. She’s lost. She’s at the Nationals of collegiate a cappella and she has just thrown up on everyone in the first three rows. Faintly, she can hear Alice screaming in disgust, horror and a rage that surpasses rationality, but Aubrey can’t stop this. Tears are streaming down her face.

_The first letter is from Harvard. Next, Yale, then Princeton a week later. Each day, her mother looks at her with more and more pity as her father slowly stops speaking to her. By the time Barden’s letter comes, Aubrey knows that this is it, and that having to explain the application to Barden is the least of her worries._

_“Anything to say for yourself, young lady?”_

_Aubrey stares at the pile of opened letters. All starting with an apologetic greeting, then a crushing truth. She shakes her head. “No, Daddy. I’m so sorry.”_

_“Sorry doesn’t cut it. If at first you don’t succeed…”_

_Aubrey waits. These are her father’s life lessons. She’s heard at least half a dozen of them for each year she has spent under his guidance. They have always somehow managed to only make her feel smaller and more useless than the one before._

_“If at first you don’t succeed,” her father says again. His eyes are hard. “You pack your bags and leave.”_

“Aubrey. Aubrey!”

The room is a cacophony of chaos and the Bellas and audience alike are trying to reach the exits as fast as possible. One woman gives Aubrey a look of sheer horror, vomit caked on her front, and Aubrey gives a heave, sending the woman screaming away.

“Aubrey!”

Chloe is in front of her now, heels deep in the yellow muck of her last meal. Her hands are feverishly warm on Aubrey’s face as she tries to wipe the mess from Aubrey’s chin.

“Oh God. Aubrey. Are you okay?”

“No,” Aubrey whimpers. She reaches for Chloe’s hands, grip tight and frightened. “I can’t make it stop.”

“Yes, you can,” Chloe says, making no move to back up as Aubrey gives a dry heave. “Come on. Breathe deep, remember?”

Aubrey tries to ignore the pounding behind her eyes, the sting of bile coating her mouth and the sour taste that accompanies it. Instead, she focuses on Chloe’s eyes and the warm comfort of her hands. As one, they both draw deep breaths in through their mouths and let them out slowly through their noses. Chloe keeps time for Aubrey, centres her until Aubrey stops dry heaving.

“There,” Chloe murmurs, brushing Aubrey’s hair out of her face and wiping at her chin again even though Aubrey thinks it’s disgusting to have her vomit coating Chloe’s hands, “There. We’re fine now, see?”

But things are anything but fine. Aubrey can see that. The Bellas have all left the stage and the auditorium is almost empty except for a few audience members who have stayed behind to gape at the mess. Aubrey pulls away from Chloe, wiping at her eyes with sharp motions.

“I’ve failed everyone.”

“Aubrey,” Chloe says, standing just behind Aubrey at the edge of the stage and pressing a hesitant hand against Aubrey’s rigid back, “Don’t say that.”

“Stop lying, Chloe!” Aubrey snaps. She gasps in a breath, struggling to calm herself before intoning, “I have to go apologize to Alice.”

Chloe pulls her hand away, letting it fall to her side. When Aubrey turns around, Chloe has most of the hurt hidden behind a curtain of red hair.

“I’m sorry,” Aubrey says, but it’s wooden and Aubrey isn’t sure just what she’s apologizing for. Chloe only blinks, face drawn. “I’ll see you on the bus.”

Alice doesn’t even scream at her when Aubrey finally finds her in the parking lot. She’s cleaned herself up but the stains are still there on her uniform, and Aubrey doesn’t think any of this will ever wash out. Alice just gives her one look filled with loathing then turns her back, climbing into the bus and pointedly spraying perfume in Aubrey’s direction. Aubrey doesn’t say anything. She spends the bus ride back cloaked in a cloying fog of floral scents and steadfastly staring at her hands clenched into fists.

This was supposed to be the year everything would be set up for her take-over of the Barden Bellas. She was supposed to start with a National win under her belt and a reputation blinding enough to recruit the best of girls. Now –  _like everything else in her life –_ she’s completely blown her chances, and she’s back at rock bottom, scrambling frantically upward again.

As they disembark at Barden, Aubrey stays back, waiting until Chloe finally comes out from the bus.

“Chloe, can you – ” Aubrey tries, but the words get caught at the back of her throat. Chloe stops, avoiding Aubrey’s eyes and fidgeting just out of reach.

Aubrey doesn’t know how to do this. Ever since she was little, it had always been Aubrey by herself, struggling to meet her father’s expectations. She had never had anyone in her corner, anyone to count on or keep her together. Now, she’s fallen too far to even try to redeem herself in her father’s eyes, and she’s about to lose Chloe too.

“Look, back at the Lincoln, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t…” Aubrey closes her eyes, grits her teeth and whispers, “I’m so sorry.” Her voice is thick with fear and worry and regret, and Aubrey can barely stand to her herself like that, but that’s all it takes to send Chloe surging forward, wrapping Aubrey in a crushing hug.

“You don’t need to apologize to me” Chloe mumbles, and Aubrey is shaking, dropping tears into Chloe’s hair. “We’re best friends. I think of you as my best friend, at least. You never need to apologize to me.”

“Okay,” Aubrey whispers, feeling Chloe’s chest rising and falling against her own. “I consider you my best friend too.”  _My only friend._

Chloe laughs. “We’re such a mess, huh?”

“Yeah,” Aubrey says.

They’re standing in an empty parking lot at Barden, Bellas uniforms crinkled and sour, but Aubrey thinks Chloe has never looked more beautiful. They’re going to do this together next year, co-captains of the Barden Bellas. Aubrey pulls Chloe even closer and vows that this time, she’ll do it for Chloe.

This time, she’ll win.

—

Months later, Chloe is sitting, slack-jawed as an unruly Beca Mitchell sits cross legged on the stage in front of them, crooning,  _It’s got mountains, it’s got rivers, it’s got sights to give you shivers, but it sure would be prettier with you_ , and Aubrey knows.

Aubrey knows that this year, they’ll win, but it won’t be her winning. When she sees Chloe jump toward Beca at initiation night and breathlessly announce, “I’ll think we’ll be fast friends,” she knows that things are spinning out of control –  _already_  –  and this time, Chloe probably won’t be in her corner.

Still, she tries. Her grip white-knuckled, Aubrey pushes and pushes until things feel like they’re ripping apart at the seams, and then Chloe says:

“Maybe Beca has a point. Maybe we could try something new.”

Aubrey can barely hear herself as she snaps, “Aca-scuse me?” Her head is buzzing, and Chloe is looking at Beca instead of looking at her, and she just knows for sure now that this is no longer her year.

Weeks later, in the quiet of the dorm room she has stayed in for the four years since her father had kicked her out, Aubrey realizes that so long as Chloe is happy, losing the Bellas to Beca Mitchell isn’t the worst thing. Whether or not she regrets not holding onto Chloe tighter instead of the Bellas is something else entirely.

When they win Nationals, Aubrey gets a curt email from her father, a simple one line of:

_Congratulations. Your mother is proud._

There is no mention of going home, no mention of graduation or meeting her father’s expectations. Still, it’s more than she had ever hoped for and Aubrey sits back in her chair, crying silent tears of relief. That’s how Chloe finds her, when she uses the spare key and knocks once before unlocking the door herself.

“Aubrey?”

“Hi, Chloe.”

They sound like strangers. Chloe hasn’t been around as much lately, bouncing from frat boy to frat boy and spending more and more time immersed in Beca’s mixes. Hell, Chloe had had major surgery without telling her, her supposed best friend, and Aubrey can’t find it in herself to fault her for that. It feels like they’d stopped being best friends since Beca Mitchell showed up. Aubrey stiffens as Chloe moves in, closing the door behind her.

“Why are you crying?” Chloe asks, hand reaching out in old habit before falling back again. Aubrey wipes her eyes, shrugging.

“Just thinking about the future, I guess.”

It’s a lie and Aubrey can tell that Chloe knows it. Kicking off her shoes and settling onto Aubrey’s bed cross legged, Chloe looks just like she did that first year, when they’d been talking of auditioning for the Barden Bellas. Now they’re National champions and they’re graduating, and Aubrey feels like Chloe is the one thing that shouldn’t have changed but did.

“You know, you never did tell me what you’re going to do after graduation,” Chloe starts slowly, picking at her socks. Aubrey watches Chloe’s fingers play with the bright pink cotton.

“I thought you knew: I’m going to work at my father’s law firm.”

The silence between them is stifling. Aubrey shifts, uncomfortable, while Chloe continues to play with her socks. Finally, Chloe looks up and says:

“I just got accepted to a Master’s program in vocal performance.” She stops Aubrey before she can give her congratulations, “I’m staying here at Barden.”

Aubrey can’t help herself, “For Beca?”

“Beca?” Aubrey blinks as Chloe tilts her head quizzically. “What does Beca have to do with this?”

“But I thought…”

“I’m staying here because I know you got accepted to the Master’s program in vocal performance too,” Chloe says. Aubrey’s breath catches. “And I thought that the Master’s program could be something that we could do. Together.”

And just like that, they’re back to where they were again. Back in that first year when Aubrey had been planning Barden domination and Chloe had invaded her life because she had no concept of boundaries. Chloe doesn’t even ask why Aubrey had lied about the law firm. She doesn’t ask why Aubrey hadn’t told her about being accepted to the program, or give any explanation on how she found out. Aubrey finds she doesn’t really care.

“Looks like we’ve got another few years together,” Aubrey finally says, smiling crookedly. Chloe gets up, crossing the room to press a kiss to Aubrey’s head.

“We’re best friends for life, Aubrey Posen,” Chloe intones, wrapping her arms around Aubrey. As always, Chloe is unnaturally warm, and Aubrey, finally, just accepts it.

She’s won. The Barden Bellas, ruling Barden University, she’d gotten that and she’d thrown up trying, but most of all: she’d found a home. She’d found Chloe, and she’ll be aca-damned if she ever gets kicked out again.


End file.
